Mini Hotch
by Padsey
Summary: "There are certain clues at a crime scene which by their very nature do not lend themselves to being collected or examined. How's one collect love, rage, hatred, fear...? These are things that we're trained to look for." -James Reese I do not own anything, but my own characters, and writing. All rights belong to the creators of Criminal Minds.
1. Chapter 1

"Other things may change us, but we start and end with family." -Anthony Brandt ***

Spencer Reid, a man of many words; Few actually listen to him. The young genius of the F.B.I has helped save many and continues saving more, but what about him? Who saves the young profiler who knows little about feelings? Where can he get the love he never got from is schizophrenic mother? He is rotting from within, but you can't tell from the outside. The doctors say he may have phscological problems, but he refuses to agree. He says he knows what a phsciatric patient is, and that he is not one. In the back of his mind, he fears it maybe true, but what if it wasn't? What if he could be saved? What if it started with opening up? What if it ment lending his heart to another?

I walked into the presinct, making my way to the elevator. My father said I could sit in on his work today after a rather elaberate fight about him never spending time with me. I'm not sure how we got to the topic because we were originally talking about one of his agents . Apperently, he has been acting rather odd in the past few weeks, but my father couldn't figure out why. My father wouldn't tell me first name, and I figured he was some man in his mid 50's who was friends with me dad.

I press the up button outside the elevator and waited in odd silence alone. Well, that is untill someone coughed rather loudly. I turnned around to see where the cough came from. It came from a young man that looked about my age, maybe 23 or 24. *Ding* My head whipped around, towardsthe elevator as the doors slide open and it emptied. I walked in and went for the buttons. _Oh gosh... What was the floor number!?_ I sat there infront of the buttons, probably looking utterly confused, when someone's arm reached around me, pressing number 4. _What was the.._ My thoughts were cut off by someones voice.

"Sorry, what?" I turnned to the same young man from before.

"Do you need any help?" He looked down at me, he was probably around 6'3", where as I am 5'3".

"Um, yes... Do you happen to know what floor the BAU is on?"

"That is where I am going," and with that, the doors slide open and he swiftly walked out of the elevator, leaving me standing there like a 5 year old lost in a mall.

I stepped out, looking around for my dad, but the only other person in here was the young man from the elevator. I walked over to the side of his desk.

"Um, excuse me? I don't mean to bother you, but do you know where I could find Aaron Hotchner?" I asked kind of quietly, but he heard me because he lifted his head in response.

"He ran out with the team an hour ago, that is where I can from," His voiced was rushed, obviously trying to figure something out. He pick up a box of files and pulled some out, as he beganto speed read through them.

"Of course! He leaves for a case without calling his own DAUGHTER NOT to bother and come! He always does this! First, my 4th grade dance recitel and now sitting in on his own JOB. What more could he miss of my life!?" I threw my arms up every once in awhile, irritated at my father, while talking aimlessly aloud.

"Well, at least it isn't your graduation," I looked over at the young man that I briefle forgot was there.

"He did miss that. By four years to be exact," I expressed my father's abscence in my life as I pull up a rolling chair from the desk next to his.

"You must be Mini Hotch, Sophia. My name is Spencer Reid," he continued looking through the files in the box.

"YOU are the 'famous' my father was talking about at dinner? I thought you were going to be some hair recseding guy in his mid 50's... Wait! What do you mean by 'Mini Hotch'?" I looked at him with a quizical look, but he ignored me, deciding his work was more important.

"Hey, Pretty Boy! Who's that little lady?" a tall, dark man came in and walked over to the desk next the Spencer's. "Where did my chair go?"

I stood up and shoved it towards his desk.

"Thank you, I'm Derek Morgan," he reached out his hand and I shook it.

"I'm Sophia, Hotch's daughter. Speaking of my father, do you know if he is coming back any time soon?"

As if answering my questions for me, my father walks in. We made eye contact, and his face immediatly flashes with guilt. Ofcourse, I was the only one to be able to see this. I was the only one whoever could decifer my father's emotions.

"Sophia. You weren't supposed to be here till 6pm."

"Check your watch..." I glared at my father as he looked at his wrist watch.

He whispered somthing unaudiable then asked me to follow him. He then brought me into an interagation room.

"Why am I in here?" I looked up at my father.

"You get to play the part of the profilie. I'm going to let me team get to know you better."

"That sounds rather creepy. What if I don't agree to doing this?" I stated as I sat down on a metal chair.

My father walked out of the almost empty room, leaving me with the company of a metal table and an one sided window. I staired aimlessly towards to mirror, thinking about who I really was and what I was going to tell about myself to my fathers team.

"We are so accustomed to disguise ourselves to others, that in the end, we become disguised to ourselves."

-François de la Rochefoucauld


	2. Chapter 2

"People often say that this or that person has not yet found himself. But the self is not something one finds, it is something one creates." -Thomas Szasz

My father walked out of the almost empty room, leaving me with the company of a metal table and an one sided window. I staired aimlessly towards to mirror, thinking about who I really was and what I was going to tell about myself to my fathers team.

There was a light knock on the door, and the latch clicked. I turnned my head towards the door, again seeing the tall, dark man, Derek, standing in the doorframe. He gave me a friendly smaile and took a seat acroos from me. Then he just staired at me. I know what he was doing, I mean I grew up with his boss. He was seeing how long it would take me to feel uncomfertable of the eye contact. I staired back at him, not breaking the stairing contest. It was completly silent for a good 5 minutes until he broke it, and began talking.

"We met earlier, I thought you were just some girl Reid had brought up. Which doesn't make sence because Reid isn't like that." His voice boomed as he giggled towards his last comment.

I just staired at Derek, I guess you could say I was profiling the profiler. He doesn't seem like someone my dad would work and get along with. I had met his old work mates from his past job, and they were far from the laughing, friendly type.

"Well, I guess you aren't very talkative..." His voice lost its cheer sound, and became more like a smart-ass whisper.

I staired over his shoulder. I couldn't see my father, but I knew he was standing on the other side of the one-way window. Probably, arms crossed over his chest, stairing... No, glaring at me through the glass. He would probably be thinking what he could get his profilers to get me to cough up about myself. I was probably just practice for his profilers...

"Are you still in school?" Derek's voice pulled me out of my mind rant.

"No, I already graduated," I didn't move an inch, I know how things work.

You blink, you're _obviously_ lieing. You shift in your seat, you feel uncomfertable and are _still _lieing. It was an odd system, but I guess it works for them.

"You graduated this year?" He sounded suprized. "How old are you?"

"Yeah... I'm 23," my voice was hesatant. "How long do I have to be here for?"

"Really? You look 16. And that is up to Hotch."

"I figured..." I whispered under my breath, not caring if he heard me or not.

He stood up, and walked out of the room, letting the metal door slam against the metal doorframe. I again stood in silence, waiting for the next person to walk in. I waited and waited, after a good 10 minutes the door opened. I smiled as I saw Jennifer. She returnned the smile as she sat down across from me.

"Hey, Sophie," She looked at me, but it wasn't the same as when we would hang out whenever she was free.

"Hey, What's up with the fake smile?" I slightly smirked at her, catching her off gaurd. "It isn't hard to read you Jen; we have been friend forever."

She shifted uncomfertably, before standing up and leaving the room without another word. I wasn't really fazed. If my father really did wan't his profilers to profile me, then Jen wasn't going to be any help. Next, walked in Reid. It sounds to formal, but what else should I call him? He walked over, but didn't sit down. He just stood across from me. His glasses were folded and placed on the vertex of the 'v' on his shirt. He placed his shoulder bag on the back of the chair, then held the corners of the chair, but he never made eye contact with me, mostly just stairing down at the seat of his empty chair.

"Why the man purse?" I broke the silence, crossing my arms, and relaxing in my chair. What was he going to get out of me? He won't even make eye contact.

"It's a messanger bag. It has actually become very popular in men. Mostly for carrying things to and from work, but also to carry things such as his wallet or cell phone..." He started a lecture about the use of a messanger bag, but I cut him off before he could continue. "I was just joking. I didn't mean to offend you. Sorry, mate."

It was quiet for a little bit, that is until someone came into the room. Both of our heads turnned towards the door to see my father. "Sophia, can I talk to you... Alone?"

"No, father. You can _never_ talk to your _own_ daughter again, excpecally _alone_," my sarcasm was over the top, if you couldn't tell I was joking, then you need to go get your ears checked.

just staired at me confused, like he didn't get.

"Sure," I whispered under my breath.

I followed my dad out of the room, following him to his office.

"What's up? You don't seem to be acting like yourself," my father spoke like he knew me. Like I was still that four year-old girl that cryed when her father missed her dance recital.

"What do you me? You don't even _know _who I am, let alone how I act." My voice was raised, my arms moving to my words. My father hadn't closed his door, and I knew his team was listening.

"I'm 23 and you probably don't even know I am going to collage! How about I work at Starbuck right down the street? Or how Josh broke up with me last week?" My eyes began to fill with tears, but I refussed to let them fall.

"Josh? You mean that boy from high school? I thought you guys split years ago," My fathers voice sounded suprised, like I couldn't stay in a stable relationship for that long.

"SEE! YOU DON'T KNOW ME! WHY DID I EVEN AGREE TO COME HERE!?" I was 'in a rage' you could say. "I should have never came."

I stormed out of his office, weaving through the others. I couldn't stop the tears at this point. They fell as I repeatedly pressed the the down button the the elevator, waiting for the doors to open. They did, and I walked in, hitting the button with a '1' as I whipped my tears and hitting the close button repeatedly, but I guess not enough because the doors openned back up due to someone sliding in. I looked up at who it was as the doors closed shut. Stairing down at me was a concerned .

"You're not as strong as you carry yourself to be," He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone as he staired down at me.

I rolled my eyes, looked forward and crossing my arms, just waiting for this elevator ride to be over. It felt to long to be real, but when it was, I was greatful. I swiftly made my way out of the elevator, out the double doors and to my car before I stopped to take out my keys. I didn't excpect to have follow, but there was Spencer standing next to me. Now this kid was just getting on my nerves.

"Don't you have someone else to both about the creation of the messanger bag?" I snapped at him as I unlocked my car and slidding in.

I closed my door and pulled out of the parking lot before he could say anymore. I looked out my rearveiw mirror to see him standing there, looking at my car, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand with his left hand shoved into his pocket. What was his problem anyways? First, he doesn't ask me why I was looking for the BAU. Then, he wouldn't shake my hand. He goes off on some rant about bags, and doesn't catch my sarcasm. And now he is following me out to my car. Where did they find this kid?

I was driving down the freeway, trying to calm down, when I began to think. Was Reid right? Was I alot weaker than I thought I was? _Was _I still that little four year-old girl in my pink tutu crying because my father missed my dance recital?

"'Know thyself?' If I knew myself, I'd run away."

-Johann Wolfgang von Goetheo


End file.
